


Make This Easy

by ziskandra



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 23:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10346961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziskandra/pseuds/ziskandra
Summary: "All right, fine," Isabela starts, voice still low, a mix of humor and exasperation, "I'll make this easy on the both of us."Quick barbs about Isabelamaking things easyleap to the tip of Aveline's tongue out of habit, but they are lost when Isabela quickly grasps the sides of Aveline's face with both hands and kisses her.Aveline and Isabela reunite after the events ofInquisitionand find themselves with some unfinished business.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [recurvehawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/recurvehawk/gifts).



> I had a lot of fun writing this, having not written these two together in this way before! I want to thank my giftee, recurvehawk, for their lovely prompt and hope this is along the lines of what you were looking for. And who knows, I might write some more of this particular ship in the future now that I've cut my teeth, so to speak. Happy Wintersend!

With tensions between the mages and templars eased, the Grey Wardens corralled back into order, and the damned giant hole in the sky sealed once more, people start returning to Kirkwall in droves. Aveline’s departure from Kirkwall had always been temporary, a necessary favour repaid in a difficult time, but…

… honestly, part of her had never truly expected Isabela to be one of those people. Or if she _had_ , it would involve the pirate finding herself thrown into the city jail after a rambunctious night out. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Even more surprising is the note Aveline receives, asking for a meeting out on the cliffs of the Wounded Coast. It isn’t signed, but Aveline would recognise Isabela’s handwriting anywhere. She's not used to seeing it form words that aren’t lewd messages, but, nonetheless. It’s Isabela’s all the same.

Truth is, despite Aveline’s lowered expectations, she’d hoped that she’d see Isabela again: she’d just always known that it would never have been her call to make. 

The paths of the mountainside had never felt so steep; although Aveline has patrolled this so many times, knows each nook intimately, she is still straining under her armour by the time she reaches the figure standing in a dusty clearing, her gaze cast over the sea.

"Hawke's not here this time," Aveline states as she turns to her old friend, impervious to the weather. While Aveline is the type of woman the persistent rainfall simply ignores, Isabela revels in it. Droplets bead down her exposed forearms as she throws her head back to look at the sky. 

"Don't," she starts, face and body turned from Aveline. "Don't make me talk about it. You know I'm not good at all this discussion of _emotions_." She gestures angrily with both hands as though feelings are something tangible that can be strangled. 

"Right," Aveline replies, not entirely convinced. “But still. You came back.” 

Isabela sighs, rolling her shoulders. She still doesn’t look at Aveline. “I did. What do you want me to say?” 

Aveline doesn’t dare voice her thoughts, but that doesn’t stop them from shouting at her on the inside: _what else is there in Kirkwall for you? Did you know_ I _was coming back?_

She is distracted from her musings by a snort of laughter. Isabela _is_ looking at her now, and although her gaze is not unkind, it is shrewd all the same. Aveline is reasonably certain that Isabela cannot read minds, but at times like this, she almost wonders. “You have this disgusting look on your face,” Isabela remarks, nose wrinkled. “It looks like… _pining_. It reminds me of that time—“

“Don’t. Go. There,” Aveline interrupts, because really? Right now, she doesn't want to be reminded of all her past failings. 

Isabela sighs. “All right. But sometimes…you’re lucky I like you so much, that’s all I’m saying.” Aveline’s heart leaps a little at the admission; it’s closer to the frank and honest truth than Isabela usually treads. But in true Isabela fashion, she hastily, abruptly, changes the subject. “How’s Bethany?”

“Safe,” Aveline says, more curtly than intended, because right now, she really doesn’t want to be discussing either of the Hawkes. “She’ll be meeting her sister in Weisshaupt once she gets there.” It’s ambiguous enough to cover her bases; truth be told, she doesn’t know precisely where either of them are right now. “How did you know I’d be here, anyway?” Two can play this game. 

Isabela scoffs. “Aveline Vallen, Guard-Captain of Kirkwall… it’s all right there in the title, isn’t it? Doesn’t matter you had to leave. I always knew you’d be back. Kirkwall is home.”

Now, however much Aveline agrees with that statement, she can’t help but arch an eyebrow. “I thought your ship was your home,” she says, “with the waves beneath your feet and the sea breeze in your hair.”

Isabela crosses her arms over her chest, making her breasts more prominent in her already too-revealing tunic. Aveline tries not to look. Fails. “Oh, Aveline, have you been reading poetry in my absence? You’re going to make my heart flutter.”

Aveline says nothing but pointedly looks away. Now she’s the one looking at the sky, as though she could fly away and avoid all these _feelings_ because it seems like strangulation isn’t a suitable solution. Maybe she ought to run them through with her sword instead. "Why would I want to do such a thing?" she eventually asks, once she becomes too well-aware of the weight of Isabela's gaze upon her. 

There's another moment of almost silence where Aveline can hear naught but the crash of the waves and Isabela's footsteps as she draws closer, places a hand on Aveline's forearm. When Isabela speaks, her voice is almost a purr. "You know, I'm not sure _I'm_ the one you want to be asking that question." 

Aveline opens her mouth, closes it. As much as it pains her to admit sometimes, Isabela is right and truthfully, has always been better at this type of thing, despite all her claims to the contrary. When Aveline likes someone, really likes someone, it makes her a bit stupid. Well, very stupid. Case in point: Donnic. Maker, she's a bit of a mess, isn't she? She never really knew what to do in these situations, and honestly? It's embarrassing. 

Her skin feels warm underneath Isabela's fingertips; she is too close and yet not close enough. Reminds her of the last time they'd been together just like this, just the two of them, before everything had gone to shit. They'd both been a bit inebriated, Isabela more than Aveline, and Isabela's constant barbs about how _long it had been_ had worked their way under Aveline’s skin just enough for Aveline to contemplate taking Isabela up on one of her many, many offers. Then Isabela had pulled away and the moment had been lost, leaving Aveline relieved and disappointed. 

Now, though, there's no drink to muddle their minds and Aveline's heart is beating way too fast. _Fluttering_. Isabela's fingers press down ever-so-slightly and when Aveline doesn't flinch, she draws her hand along her arm, up towards her shoulder. "All right, fine," Isabela starts, voice still low, a mix of humor and exasperation, "I'll make this easy on the both of us."

Quick barbs about Isabela _making things easy_ leap to the tip of Aveline's tongue out of habit, but they are lost when Isabela quickly grasps the sides of Aveline's face with both hands and kisses her. 

It really has been so long Aveline feels like she's forgotten what to do, but fortunately, her body remembers what to do when thoughts fail her, and she finds herself kissing back in earnest. Isabela has very soft lips. The softest lips she's ever kissed. She doesn't quite know what to do with her hands, settling for resting them on Isabela's waist to draw her closer. She realises she's always wondered what it would be like to kiss Isabela. Guess she knows for sure, now. Hopes it won't be the last time. She doesn't quite know what to do with that thought, and files it away for later. 

They have to come up for air eventually, and when Aveline opens her eyes again, not entirely sure of when she'd even closed them in the first place, she finds Isabela smiling at her from only an arm's length away. It's not one of the woman's usual smirks; it's smaller, but more _genuine_. Somehow, it means so much more. Softly, Isabela says, "I always told myself, if I came back, I'd want to do things right. So. I guess this is me, trying to do things right." 

Aveline's thoughts are still all addled; she supposes getting everything she never she wanted will do that a woman. "This was... good," she answers, groaning inwardly at the understatement of the decade.

Isabela cocks an eyebrow, tilts her head to the side. "Just 'good'? Oh, Aveline, now I must know what sort of depraved acts you've been party to since my absence if that was just _good_. I look forward to the stories."

Aveline rolls her eyes. Isabela might seem more settled now, but it's still nice to know that some things will never change. Still. Isabela's not the only one who's grown more comfortable with herself. Instead of letting the practiced insult roll off her tongue, Aveline mirrors Isabela's pose and answers, "I'll never tell."

"Ooh! Chilly. I _like_ it." And then they are kissing again, soaked to the bone and uncaring, and Aveline thinks to herself, _yes, I could get used to this_.


End file.
